


(you're gonna see me in a) new light

by thepolourryexpress



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Childhood Friends, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Hotel Sex, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, remember that ending from the proposal? yeah she comes back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21740995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepolourryexpress/pseuds/thepolourryexpress
Summary: a fake relationship au where everyone knows it's real but louis
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 42
Kudos: 746
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2019





	(you're gonna see me in a) new light

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 119: Louis lies about having a boyfriend and it snowballs into his family wanting to meet him. Enter Harry (or Zayn) and a fake relationship with benefits. Misunderstandings, feelings, and lots of hotel sex ensues.
> 
> i was originally planning to write this with a zouis pairing (the lack of zouis fics in this fandom is appalling) but louis just had to go and say “come so far from princess park”

Harry shouldn’t have been the first name to pop up in his head.

It’s not Louis’ fault that Harry has plagued his mind since he had first laid eyes on him. He just can’t get away from him. Between secondary school and uni, Harry’s been a more or less constant character in Louis’ pathetic story of a life.

He was only thirteen when he first met Harry. He remembers the day the boy walked into his maths class, doe-eyed and quiet when their teacher introduced Harry as the new addition to their advanced algebra class. Harry was placed in the seat just in front of him, and Louis remembers the days he spent staring at the back of Harry’s head, wondering if his hair was actually as soft as it looked. And he remembers the days he’d spend doing _anything_ to get the pretty green-eyed boy to turn around and spare him a glance.

In both the best and worst ways possible, Harry brought chaos to Louis’ life. 

Secondary school was hard enough without the distraction of pretty boys. Louis had footie practice to worry about, grades to keep up, and friends to hang out with. It was difficult enough to keep up with all of that without dwelling over the thought that he now understood what those butterflies his friends talked about feeling when they spoke to girls they fancied felt like. 

They had become friends for the most part, often finding themselves in the same social groups. And of course, on the first day of university, Louis ran straight into Harry, locking himself into another four years of chaos.

Louis never tried to avoid Harry, no. It would’ve been impossible. During the first few weeks of their freshman year, they’d fallen into the same social group. Louis wasn’t going to give up his friends in order to avoid his first crush. He wasn’t that pathetic after all.

It only got better once they all graduated, and Louis walked into his first day of his dream job to see that a certain jade-colored eyed boy was moving into the office down the hall. 

That was the day Louis accepted defeat when it came to Harry.

* * *

“You know, there’s always that very sweet boy in my office. I’ve mentioned him -- Ryan, remember? I’ll give him your number. Maybe you two can go on a few dates. Oh, you could even bring him to Lottie’s wedding. How sweet would that be?” Jay rambles on, and Louis just needs this to stop. 

Louis doesn’t exactly have a great track record when it comes to dating. It’s not something he’s exactly proud of, but he’s aware of it. He’s just not good at the whole /dating/ thing. It’s not that he has a fear of commitment either, he definitely doesn’t. He /wants/ a boyfriend, he wants to be happy. He wants the cute dates, the hand-holding, the unconditional love and support system. But there’s always _something_ that Louis manages to fuck up.

Maybe he doesn’t speak up about his feelings enough, and maybe he lets too many things slide because he’d rather stay in a relationship than be alone again.

So, maybe he’s not the greatest at expressing what he wants, but at least he’s self-aware. _That_ has to be a good quality, he thinks. At least he knows what his flaws are. He’s not in denial. He doesn’t _need_ therapy. Probably.

He’s impulsive.

“Mum, I--” Louis interrupts, letting out a silent groan as he holds the phone to his ear. “I’m actually seeing someone.”

Jay pauses. “You’re seeing someone? When were you going to mention this?”

“Was going to be a surprise,” Louis lies, closing his eyes. “Bringing him up for Christmas and all that.”

And if she was annoyed at the idea of Louis keeping such a relationship from her, all malice is gone once she hears that. “Well, I ruined the surprise, didn’t I?” She laughs, more than pleased with the idea of Louis bringing someone home for the holidays. “I’m going to have to get the house extra tidy. Why don’t you tell me about this special boy, love?”

If Louis was any more decent of a person, he’d come clean right now. He’d tell Jay that, no, he isn’t actually bringing home anyone for Christmas, and he plans on lounging on the loveseat between Daisy and Phoebe like most other Christmases. But, no. Instead, he’s worse.

“It’s just Harry, mum. Met him a bunch of times.”

He regrets it as soon as he says it. There’s silence on the line, and for a minute, Louis is about to chuck his phone against the wall.

“Harry?” Jay repeats, and there’s a hint of hesitance in her voice that makes Louis think that, yeah, he really should’ve thought this through better. A hesitance that makes him think this definitely isn’t going to work out. Why’d he have to say _Harry_ out of all people? He’s completely screwed. “Oh, darling. That’s really something, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, mum. I suppose it is,” Louis says quickly, voice sounding far away from him as he thinks, Oh, God, what has he done?

There’s _no_ way that Harry’s going to be okay with this. 

It’s easy to say that Louis’ definitely not looking forward to seeing Harry, and he’s definitely not looking forward to when he has to come clean to his mother. He never lies to Jay, but he really doesn’t want to be pestered about not having anyone to bring home for the holidays. And he definitely doesn’t need his mother to start setting him up with every boy she deems to be ‘respectable’ and ‘very handsome.’ 

He's not _that_ pathetic.

It isn’t like he and Harry weren’t _friends_ , they are. At least, he thinks they can be considered friends. They hang out in the same group, they have some sort of history. Louis doesn’t know exactly what they are. Somewhere hovering between strangers and friends, he’d guess. 

The next time he sees Harry, they’re all at Niall’s, watching a Man U game on the telly. Bottles of beer scatter across the coffee table, and two empty pizza boxes lay on the ground beside it. Louis loves Man U, and he realizes it must be a little alarming that he’s being unusually quiet on the end of the couch. He can feel Zayn’s eyes burning a hole into his body. He just wants to disappear. 

He’s trying not to be weird, trying not to completely ignore Harry (it’s not like the boy talks to him anyway) while simultaneously keeping up his usual reputation of bothering Liam every few minutes. 

It’s going well, he thinks, until he’s being cornered in the Niall’s kitchen by Zayn after all he wanted was a glass of water. 

“Gonna tell me why you’re being so weird?” Zayn asks, leaning against the doorframe as Louis digs his way into the fridge, hunting for a water bottle. Something.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Louis shrugs his shoulders, giving Zayn the odd look. Zayn just raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t ask if anything was wrong.” He says. 

He hates Zayn just a tiny bit.

“I’m not being weird,” Louis corrects.

“You are. You haven’t screamed at the game once,” Zayn frowns.

Well. “I don’t need to. We’re doing great.”

“We’re losing, Lou.”

Now, that just makes Louis upset. Not only is he ruining his life but now his favorite team is losing. He groans, resting his forehead against the freezer door. “I told my mum that I have a boyfriend.”

Zayn just raises an eyebrow. “You told your mum you have a boyfriend,” he deadpans.

Louis groans again. Zayn just doesn’t get it. He tells him this.

“I just-- I don’t understand, Lou. You’re all moody because you told your mum you have a boyfriend when you don’t?” He clarifies.

“I told my mum that I was dating _Harry_.” Louis finally adds. He wants to climb into the fridge and never come out at this point.

Zayn stares at him for a moment, and the next thing Louis knows, Zayn’s _laughing_ at him. 

“No-- Stop, please. You have to help me,” Louis insists, forgetting about his conquest for a water bottle as he steps forward to grab Zayn’s arm, shaking it like a child.

“Fuck, _Lou_. I can’t believe this. You told your mum you were dating _Harry_.”

“He was the first name that popped into my head!” Louis sputters.

“ _Why?_ ” 

Louis can feel his cheeks flush at that. _Great._ Now his own body is betraying him. He doesn’t want to think about why Harry had been the first name to cross his mind. He and Zayn both know why. 

“ _Zayn_ , please. You need to get me out of this. I told her we were coming up for Christmas,” Louis insists, and Zayn just cackles. He needs a new best friend.

“I’m not getting you out of anything. _You_ told your own mother that you were dating Harry and bringing him home. You’re going to have to figure that one out for yourself,” he says, and he moves to grab another drink out of Niall’s fridge. 

Louis thinks. “I’ll just tell her that I meant to say _your_ name. You can be my boyfriend now, _Zaynie_.”

Zayn gags, shaking his head. Louis’ a little hurt. Is he not desirable? “Your mum’s not gonna believe that. And how stupid are you to not know who you’re dating? You’re stupid.”

Louis just pouts. “What was I fucking thinking? I’ve fucked up, Z, he’s never going to agree to this. What am I supposed to do?” 

There’s a few solutions that are running through his brain right now. He could call his mum back with the terrible news that unfortunately, he and Harry broke up, and now he’s got to return his Christmas gift. He could say that _both_ of their cars happened to break down and now there’s absolutely no way of getting up there in time for the holidays. Maybe next year?

And if Louis wasn’t convinced that the world hates him already, all suspicion is confirmed once Harry walks into the kitchen. When Harry notices both Louis’ and Zayn’s eyes on him, his brows pull together in confusion, slowly throwing his trash away. There’s a moment of silence before Harry’s asking, “What’s going on?”

And because Zayn just hates him, he looks at Harry and says, “Louis told his mum that you two are dating. Have fun with that,” before he’s squeezing past the two of them, patting Harry’s shoulder as he passes and walks back into the living room.

Louis’ mortified. 

Somehow Harry’s brows knit together even more at the sudden information, green eyes filled with confusion. Louis can’t blame him, is the thing. It’s not everyday that you’re told that someone is pretending to date you. Especially someone you barely talk to in the slightest. Nonetheless, Louis feels sick to his stomach.

This was never supposed to reach Harry, was the thing. He knew that Harry was never going to agree, that it was just some silly thing he said to his mother and will have to own up to eventually. He’s not upset about spending another holiday alone; it had just been something to get his mum to shut up about setting him up with every nice boy who was remotely gay she met. This, however, was not part of the plan. 

It takes Harry a minute to even formulate his words. “You told your mum we were dating?” He says, and Louis just wishes he could die in this moment. Right in Niall’s kitchen. 

“Slip of the tongue?” Louis tries weakly. Harry just stares at him, opening his mouth as if he’s about to say something before closing it. “She was, you know. All that mum stuff. Bugging me about bringing someone home for the holidays.” He adds as if it’ll make anything better.

“Right.” Harry says. It’s silent for a few moments, and Louis thinks for a moment that Harry’s going to say something else but instead, the boy walks out of the room, joining the rest of the boys in the living room and leaving him in the kitchen.

All Louis can think is _what the fuck?_

He stays put in the kitchen for a few moments just trying to wrap his head around Harry’s reaction. Which was more like a lack of a reaction. Then again, Louis’ not even sure how he’d react if the roles were reversed. Probably not well. It takes him a few minutes before he’s bothering to show his face in the living room again, setting himself down next to Niall on the couch, curling up against the arm as he starts on another bottle of beer. Because surely Niall’s safe. _He’s_ not going to call Louis stupid for telling his mother he was dating Harry. And he most definitely does not spare a glance towards Harry.

Fortunately enough, the game ends, and Man U loses (Louis can’t even find the energy to be upset about it). It’s Liam who decides that they watch a movie, putting on Die Hard while they all fall into a light chatter. Louis’ not sure when he manages to pass out, but he guesses it’s some point after John McClane’s venting about his situation in a vent.

He wakes up to the sound of Liam and Niall’s voice in the hallway and to the feeling of someone touching his shoulder. At first, without registering the voice, he thinks it’s Zayn, but as he slowly blinks his eyes open, he’s surprised to see Harry crouching down in front of him, looking a little apologetic. God, if there’s one way to spook Louis, Harry’s just done it.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry rambles, resting his hand on the arm of the couch for a bit of balance as he stays crouched down in front of Louis. “I was just -- heading out. Yeah. Wanted to say bye. And, like. Tell you I’ll do it.” 

Louis furrows his eyebrows together. He doesn’t even know what Harry’s talking about. The last thing he remembers saying was to Liam where he was complaining about a work project. Harry works in a completely different department. He’s the pretty photographer across the hall (as most of the workplace refers to him). 

“You’ll look at my code?” Louis questions, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as he sits up a bit. 

“What? No,” Harry almost looks a little amused. “I meant, um. The boyfriend thing.”

Louis freezes, feeling a lot more awake right now. It’s just him and Harry in the living room, and Louis’ so thankful for that. “You really don’t have to do that, Harry. Seriously.” He says, and for a moment, he thinks that the only thing worse than claiming Harry was his boyfriend was _actually_ pretending to date the boy.

“I can. I really don’t, um. Mind. Might be nice to take someone home for the holidays.” Harry explains, shaking his head. Louis needs a moment to process this.

“I’ll text you, okay? We’ll figure something out,” Harry insists before Louis can even muster out a proper sentence, standing up and giving Louis a little smile. He’s out of the room within a moment and Louis can hear him saying his goodbyes to the boys in the hallway. 

Once Louis’ brain has started working again, Liam and Zayn have both left and he decides that it’s definitely time for himself to go home. He needs to sleep this whole week off. So, he helps Niall clean up a bit, and once all their trash is properly discarded, he’s bidding a good night to Niall, promising that he’s alright to drive. He didn’t drink too much, maybe a beer or two, and really, he’s not drunk at all.

He doesn’t check his phone until he’s back at home, too scared to see if Harry’s actually texted him or not. He busies himself with a cup of tea, curling up on his couch and letting his cat, Stevie, settle on his lap. He doesn’t want to check it, is the thing. He’s not actually sure he can manage to pull pretending to date Harry off. His curiosity gets the best of him, though, as he finally reaches for his phone. 

And of course, there’s a text from Harry.

_Hii. It’s Harry. Hope you got home safe! x_

_Anywaaay. I don’t know what your plans for the holidays were, but I was thinking we could spend the first few days at your mum’s. Christmas Eve, Christmas day, and whenever. I know you probably want to spend your birthday with your family._

_Then we could spend the latter part of the week at my mum’s? Could visit both whenever throughout the week. It’s not like we live very far, ha. But let me know!_

Louis’ speechless. He’s not sure if he’s breathed for a minute because Stevie’s pawing at him worriedly. 

Harry’s gone and made their _plans_. It’s one thing to accept Louis’ (lack of) fake dating proposal, but it’s another to be this forward about it. He doesn’t know how to read this. He stares at the messages, thumbs hovering over his keyboard.

**Hey, thanks. I haven’t really thought about my plans yet. Just kinda figured I’d make it up to see them.**

**You don’t have to do this at all, you know. It’s silly.**

Harry’s reply comes almost instantly. Louis’ stomach hurts.

_It’ll be fuuuun. I like your family. Besides, I’ve decided that you’re driving, so I get a free trip home because of this. We can travel up the 23rd._

At this point, Louis figures it’s useless to argue. 

**December 23rd, then. But you can always back out of this. I’m giving you an out.**

_I’ll see you Monday. x_

Louis doesn’t get much sleep that night. 

* * *

December 23rd strolls around sooner than Louis anticipates. He comes home with a number of texts: some from Zayn wishing him good luck, that he won’t forget to feed Stevie while he’s away; another few from his mother blubbering on about how excited she is to see him and Harry later and to be safe on his drive up; and a few from Harry, telling him that he’s all packed and ready to go whenever Louis is. 

Louis’ ready to throw his phone. 

It’s strange, is the thing, having Harry so willing to do this. Between the texts and Monday, when Harry had strolled into his office to cement the plans for their holiday, claiming that he just needs everything to be detailed, Louis doesn’t know what to think. This wasn’t the kind of reaction he’d been expecting from Harry. 

They decided that they’d go with Harry’s original plan, and Louis quickly shuts down Harry’s suggestion of going out to dinner with everyone at some point. Because while Louis might feel and act like he’s on crack sometimes, he has some working brain cells. He doesn’t need his family getting attached to Harry’s just to learn that shortly after Christmas, they’ve broken up. Harry seemed to understand that, yeah, maybe it’s a bit too soon to have their families properly together. Especially considering that it’s the holidays.

Regardless, he gets himself ready for his drive up, managing to look decent before he’s sending a quick text to Harry to tell him that he’s on his way. 

“Wish me luck, Stevie.” Louis says with a pout, leaning down to press a kiss to his cat’s little face. She just meows. Louis knows it’s with love.

Louis pulls up to Harry’s house with an unsettled stomach, and he tries not to worry too much that he’s going to be stuck in a car for three hours with Harry. He can do this. After all, how’s he supposed to last a whole two weeks with the boy if he can’t manage sitting through a three hour car ride?

Harry comes stumbling out of his house a few minutes later, pushing his bags into the backseat and apologizing for being a little late. “I had to make sure I watered all the plants.” He explains, and Louis doesn’t understand how he’s real. 

And if that’s not bad enough, Harry’s whipping out a notebook and a pen, asking, “You have a cat, right? What’s their name?”

Louis just blinks, glancing over him for as long as he can without risking crashing his car.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not half-assing this. You want this to be believable, don’t you?” Harry glances over at him with a frown, and Louis just sighs, tightening his fingers around the steering wheel. This is the worst thing he’s ever done.

“Her name’s Stevie. She’s the love of my life, definitely.” Louis says after a few moments. 

“Like Stevie Nicks? Or Stevie Wonder?” Harry asks curiously, and Louis smiles a little.

“Stevie Nicks. She’s ace. Wonder’s not too shabby, though.”

Harry grins. “Now you’ve got to tell me your favorite Fleetwood Mac song.”

Louis thinks. “Silver Springs, I think.”

“I respect that. I think mine’s gonna have to be The Chain,” he hums, and he scribbles a note down. Louis feels as if he’s failing this already. “I think I know all your sisters at this point. Unless your mum’s popped out a few more?” He prompts, and Louis shakes his head.

“Just the six. I think she’s finally done,” he muses. 

“Did you tell her how we got together? Or is that something we’re going to have to come up with?” Harry asks.

“I really didn’t get that far into the details,” Louis scrunches up his nose. “I told her that we were dating and then the call ended a little bit after,” he explains. 

Harry hums. “So we’ll come up with that.” He decides, and Louis finds it way too endearing to watch Harry scribble notes into a little journal of his. “What about pet names? Nicknames? I think those are important in a relationship. Is there anything you’d hate being called?”

Louis thinks for a moment. “I’ll gag if you call me honey. Don’t make it sound unnatural, though,” he frowns. They don’t want to be too obnoxious, after all. Harry just makes a face.

“I won’t make it obnoxious,” Harry rolls his eyes. Louis doesn’t know if he trusts that. For a second, it feels like Harry’s just taking this and running with it. “It’ll come natural, I think.” He shrugs his shoulders. “What about PDA? I think it’d be suspicious if we didn’t hold hands. Or kiss. At least once.” Harry points out.

Louis knows Harry’s right, is the thing, but he’s definitely just not in the right mindset to be thinking about kissing Harry. 

This holiday’s gonna be fun. 

“I guess, yeah. Gonna have to,” Louis says, and he tries to keep his voice even, normal. This was a very terrible idea. “I mean. I’m not exactly trying to snog a boy in front of my mother and grandparents, though.”

Harry snorts. “We’ll keep it kid friendly. Don’t want to scare the little ones,” he waves his hand. “I think it’ll probably come off as weird that we don’t have pictures of each other on social media. So. We should probably come up with an excuse for that one.”

Louis shrugs. “We work together. We don’t want any drama in the workplace. Simple.”

“That makes sense,” Harry hums after a moment, scribbling it down.

For the most part, the rest of the car ride continues with the two exchanging questions and information. Louis manages to learn a bit about Harry, and it's all kind of nice. It’s enjoyable, Louis thinks, and maybe this won’t be too bad.

* * *

Four hours later, Louis’ pulling up into his mother’s driveway just as the sky around them is starting to set. The house hasn’t changed much since he last came home. And not much has changed since his childhood either. Harry notes this when he recognizes the lone swing hanging from a tree in their front yard.

“You and Lottie used to push each other around in that thing, I remember,” Harry says, and Louis watches as his cheeks pinken after he gives him a confused expression. “Gemma had a friend down the street. Used to come for the ride when Mum would pick her up,” he explains.

“Right. Stalker,” Louis muses while he shuts the car off, Harry pouting in response. “You ready for this?” He asks. Harry just grins.

“Gonna be the best fake boyfriend ever. Jay’s never gonna stop talking about me the next time you bring home a guy,” he insists, and Louis makes a face. The thing is, Harry’s totally right. He already knows that Jay’s gonna love him. She always has, after all.

He makes it up to the porch with Harry, slinging his bag over his shoulder and ringing the doorbell. He still has a key, probably has it on him, but it’s always felt weird to use it after moving out. They barely wait a minute outside before Jay’s opening the door and immediately throwing her arms around Louis. 

“It’s about time you made it up here, darling. London’s stolen my baby,” Jay complains, and she has a big smile on her face as she pulls away from Louis, hands on the boy’s shoulders. Louis laughs, shaking his head. 

“As if I’m not calling you all the time,” Louis shakes his head, and he pulls his mother into another hug, because, okay. He loves his mum very much. Even when he feels like he has to lie about boys he’s dating. 

Jay just rolls her eyes, pinching Louis’ side. “As if a call could ever be enough,” she tsks, and when she pulls away properly, she turns to Harry with a smile, easily tugging him into a just as warm hug. “Now, I haven’t seen you in _forever._ Everyone’s so grown up now,” Jay grins as she pulls back.

And it’s true, Louis thinks. It’s been a long while since his mum has properly seen Harry. The last time Jay saw him, Harry must’ve still had baby fat, looking like a tall bean pole at the same time. It’s crazy to think back to that version of Harry since now, every day, Louis’ met with this broad-shouldered, breathtakingly beautiful, and _grown_ man that Harry’s become. He definitely has to work on not being attracted to Harry. Jesus. 

“Hi, Ms. Deakin,” Harry grins as Jay pulls away from their hug. “You don’t look different at all,” he tells her, and Louis has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He’s a suck up. 

Jay just laughs, shaking her head as she looks to Louis. “This one’s a charmer,” she says, waving Harry off. “You can call me Jay, love.”

Harry beams. 

It doesn’t take very long for Louis’ whole family to fall in love with Harry and Louis’ not sure if that’s a problem or what he wanted to happen. Harry’s not exactly his boyfriend. Well, he’s not his boyfriend at all, really. The idea of his whole family falling in love with Harry only for Louis to announce that they’ve painfully broken up weeks later isn’t very exciting. 

They spend that evening with Louis’ siblings, watching Christmas movie after Christmas movie in the living room. Doris and Ernest have taken turns quizzing Harry on every Christmas movie they watch for some reason Louis doesn’t understand why. But the girls can’t stop giggling and swooning over Harry’s interactions with their little siblings. 

Louis tries not to swoon too much himself, but when Harry falls asleep that night on the couch with Doris and Ernest cuddled into his both of his sides, he’s a goner too. 

Louis is absolutely convinced that Harry was right when he said he was going to be the favorite boyfriend. His family’s barely known Harry for more than a day and Louis can tell that his mother is never going to be happy with someone else Louis decides to date. He’s brought this upon himself, really. 

Harry gets along with _everyone_. He’s managed to charm his grandparents and even his great grandmother. He gets on well with Jay, obviously, and all of his siblings love him. Even Lottie’s fiancé is charmed by Harry. Which brings Louis to another issue he’s forgotten about.

“Harry’s obviously your plus one, isn’t he? He’s coming to the wedding,” Lottie insists when they’re all having Christmas Eve dinner. 

Fortunately, Harry’s the first to speak up. “Louis actually didn’t mention there was a wedding planned,” Harry explains, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s so exciting, though. When is it?”

Lottie beams at the chance to talk about her wedding. “It’s in March. The second weekend. We’re getting married in Scotland.”

“It’s short notice,” Louis insists, shaking his head as he turns to Harry. “Don’t feel bad if you can’t come.” He doesn’t need to drag Harry into a bigger mess. This was enough to get his family off his back for not dating anyone, of course. He doesn’t need Harry to keep playing pretend boyfriend for him three months later.

Harry just pouts, giving Louis a look like he’s crazy. “Of course I’m going to be your plus one. I’m not going to miss out on Lottie’s big day.” He tells him, and he looks so serious about it that Louis’ stomach starts to hurt. 

He manages a smile when Lottie squeals, insisting that she’d text Harry all the details because she’s sure Louis must’ve lost it by now. 

* * *

Once they’re both up in Louis’ bedroom, their Christmas Eve high having disappeared after Jay had insisted for everyone to head to bed so Santa could come (regardless of the fact that the twins were much too old to believe in Santa), Louis realizes that his childhood room is a lot smaller than he remembered. His bed consists of a tiny twin sized mattress, and yeah, maybe Louis’ not the biggest guy on the planet, but he doesn’t even know how that’ll be comfortable for _him_ let alone anyone else. He knows they don’t have an air mattress either, and asking for one would only raise eyebrows. 

He can feel Harry tense besides him once the boy realizes their predicament. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” the taller boy says, and Louis’ quick to shake his head.

“No. I’m sleeping on the floor. Take the bed. I dragged you into this mess.” Louis shakes his head, and he’s the first to move, with home advantage of course, finding some more blankets from the closet and getting started on a makeshift bed. 

Harry doesn’t look convinced, lower lip pulled between his teeth as he looks between the bed and Louis. “C’mon. Just take the bed. It’s yours. I’m fine on the floor.” 

Louis gives him an unimpressed look. “Take the bed, Harry. I’m _fine._ ” He’s regretting taking the floor ten minutes later. He’s not fine. It’s cold on the floor, the floor is hurting his ribs, and Louis’ not very convinced that the monster from when he was eight _isn’t_ hiding under his bed right now. It’s been years since he’s had sleepovers and hell, maybe he should’ve found his own sleeping bag. He can tell that Harry’s not sleeping either, and at this point, Louis just wants to suffer alone. 

“C’mon. The floor cannot be comfortable.” Harry says. 

“Just get some sleep, okay? God knows the twins are going to be running in here at the arse crack of dawn.” Louis mumbles. 

There’s a moment of silence. “You know,” Harry starts while staring up at the ceiling, hands folded over his stomach, loosely gripping the duvet. “Think your sisters might think it’s a little weird we’re not sharing a bed.” At that, Louis has to hold back a groan from his position on the floor.

The floor’s _comfortable_. He doesn’t have to deal with the awkward shifting around on the bed to make sure they were both comfortable, doesn’t have to know what it’ll feel like to share a bed with his dumb high school crush. It’s a lot easier for Louis just to sleep on the floor. He’ll suffer in the morning maybe, but he’ll live.

“They’re, like. Twelve. They’re not gonna think twice about it.” Louis says, closing his eyes. He can hear Harry frowning at him. 

“Aren’t they fifteen? I’m pretty sure they’ll notice.” 

Louis sighs. He really doesn’t think Daisy or Phoebe are going to care whether or not he’s sharing a bed with his boyfriend. His childhood bed is tiny. He’s pretty sure Harry’s a snorer. Louis doesn’t want to get distracted laying next to his boyfriend’s incredible body. 

Well. Scratch that excuse.

He stays silent, not bothering to answer him and just hoping that Harry goes to sleep. It’s not going to make a difference. Louis knows that the twins are just going to want to open their gifts. They could care less about whether or not their brother is having a cuddle in bed.

“Just come up here, Louis,” Harry says, and when Louis peeks an eye open, he sees Harry sat up and leaning over the edge of the bed. Jesus, he wishes he could say no to this man. “I’ll drag you up here myself.” Harry adds after a few more seconds of silence. 

And since Louis _really_ doesn’t want to fight Harry, he knows that this boy is more than serious, Louis’ pushing himself up off of the wooden floor with a huff. He can’t stand him. He drags his blanket as he moves to the other side of the bed, waiting for Harry to scoot over before he’s even attempting to climb onto his bed. It’s tiny, is the thing, and they’re both grown adults. He doesn’t even think it’s comfortable for Harry to sleep in the bed alone never mind sharing it with Louis. 

And when Louis’ finally on the bed, there’s a moment of awkwardness because the bed _really_ is that tiny. They’re pressed shoulder to shoulder and Louis doesn’t know what’s better -- the floor or this? The floor was uncomfortable, sure, but now he has Harry’s body heat against him, the feeling of Harry being pressed so close against him taking over his mind. He’d definitely get more sleep on the floor. 

“I’m honestly okay with sleeping on the floor, you know.” Louis mumbles, trying to shift on the bed for more room. Harry just snorts. 

“Gonna regret sleeping on the floor tomorrow. Just stay,” he nudges his shoulder against Louis’, turning his head to look at the smaller boy besides him, and Louis has to keep his gaze on the ceiling in order to keep his sanity. If he turned his head, his face would be only inches away from Harry’s.

“I’m going to sleep now,” Louis says, rolling his eyes, and from the corner of his eye, he can see Harry’s lips break into a smile before the boy is turning onto his side, his back to Louis and mumbling out a goodnight. 

* * *

As promised, it’s seven o’ clock on Christmas morning when Phoebe and Daisy come barreling into their brother’s room, immediately launching themselves onto the small twin sized bed. Harry’s their first victim, it seems, as Phoebe climbs over to shake Harry’s shoulders. Regardless of the fact that they only met the man a few days ago, Louis’ sisters were completely comfortable with treating Harry like he was one of their own. 

“Jesus,” Harry groans when he feels small hands prodding at his body. “Dais - Daisy. M’up. Up, up, up. I’m getting up,” he huffs out a small laugh, peeking an eye open just to see the young girl’s face frowning at him. 

“ _Phoebe_ ,” she corrects, and Harry pouts. He’s trying. It’s not his fault they have the same exact face. He’ll get this down one day.

“ _Phoebe_ ,” he repeats. “My deepest apologies,” he says, and he sits up a bit in the bed, glancing behind himself to see Louis still sleeping while _Daisy_ attempts to wake him up. “Don’t teenagers like sleeping in?” He muses, and Phoebe rolls her eyes.

“Not on Christmas. It’s totally different.” She insists, and okay, Harry can understand that. Christmas is exciting for people of all ages.

It’s only a few moments later before Louis’ waking up, groaning for Daisy to stop prodding at his face and chest. “Bloody hell, Dais.” He grumbles, and Harry has no idea how he differentiates between the two of them regardless of the fact that Louis’ had home plate advantage for years. He needs to get better at this. 

“It’s _Christmas_. You’re getting up,” Daisy whines, and she tugs on Louis’ arm, ignoring the way Louis tries to shake her off and curl back into himself to sleep.

“Bloody useless boyfriend. Won’t even save me from my sisters,” he complains, and Harry can’t help but blush at his words, the way Daisy and Phoebe giggle at his expense.

“Sorry, babes.” Harry teases, leaning down to obnoxiously kiss Louis’ cheek just for show. “We’ve both been attacked. Think it’s fair that I let you take some abuse from them,” he grins, climbing out of bed himself. Louis just groans, closing his eyes. 

“ _Louis_ ,” Daisy huffs when she catches a glance of her brother’s eyes drooping closed again, to which he protests as soon as her hands latch onto the boy’s arms. “You’re getting up. It’s Christmas,” she grumbles. 

“You all suck. And I’m taking back all my gifts,” Louis threatens as he finally pushes himself out of the bed. It’s an empty threat, of course, and they know it. Louis ignores the way Harry can’t stop smiling. 

It’s going to be a long day.

The morning goes quickly, unwrapped gifts and wrapping paper scattered all over the house. It’s a usual Christmas morning in the Tomlinson-Deakin household: loud, messy, and joyful. Louis can’t help but laugh as he watches Harry try to pick up the wrapping paper scraps, wrapping a hand around the boy’s wrist when Harry comes by to pick up paper near where he’s curled up on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate in his other hand. 

“Stop trying to impress my mum by picking up garbage,” Louis teases and tugs at Harry’s wrist, silently urging him to sit beside him. Harry just flushes pink at that, huffing as he reluctantly settles down on the couch, leaning against Louis’ side. 

“I told you. M’gonna ruin it for all your future boyfriends,” Harry reminds with a playful little smile, stealing the boy’s mug of hot chocolate. Louis just lets him. 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t need to play garbage control to do that,” he promises. 

Harry smiles, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a sip of the hot chocolate. 

Harry’s only been over for a few days, and he’s already the favorite child. Between helping Jay in the kitchen, even when Jay _insists_ that she’s got it all under control, and letting his siblings do whatever they please with him, Louis supposes he couldn’t expect anything less. Nobody was immune to Harry’s charm. It definitely wasn’t in the Tomlinson-Deakin gene to be able to. Louis knew that firsthand. 

“My mum has a New Year’s party every year,” Harry mentions after a moment, glancing up at Louis from where he’s tucked under Louis’ arm. It makes his heart swell just a little bit. “Was thinking we could stay for a bit when we take a trip over to mum’s,” he suggests. “It’s not too crazy, either. And you’ll know Gemma. It’ll be fun,” he adds, nodding his head. 

After what Harry’s agreed to do for him, Louis really can’t turn down Harry’s mother’s New Year’s party. Besides, he knows it’ll be nice to see Harry’s family again. He hasn’t seen them in so long, and he had always gotten along with Gemma when he bumped into her. So, he hums, nodding his head as he rubbed his hand over Harry’s shoulder. “Now, it doesn’t sound _awful_.” Louis teases. “I’ll spend the whole time with Gemma so I don’t have to see your ugly mug,” he jokes, pinching Harry’s side.

Harry pouts playfully, rolling his eyes as he complains about Louis’ claim that he’ll hang out with Gemma the whole time. It’s then that Daisy comes rushing over with her new polaroid to snap a picture of the two of them. “You two are adorable,” she gushes, grinning as she waves the polaroid in their faces. Louis can’t do anything more than blush.

* * *

As for Harry’s mother’s party, Louis unfortunately doesn’t end up spending it with Gemma the whole night. In fact, he’s barely able to leave Harry’s side all night. It’s an exaggeration, but it seems like every time Louis manages to strike a conversation with someone in the house, Harry’s finding him within moments. He can’t say he doesn’t like it, though.

Maybe it’s the endless glasses of alcohol they’ve been sipping on throughout the night, but Louis really likes the way Harry’s arm hooks around him every time the taller lad finds him again. And he _really_ likes the way Harry keeps leaning down to whisper and giggle into his ear, his fingers gripping his glass just a little tighter.

Gemma keeps teasing them over how cute they are, how she’s never seen Harry gush over and act like this before. It’s a little unnerving, and every time someone mentions how cute they seem, Louis can’t help but feel incredibly guilty for bringing Harry’s family into their fake relationship too. So, as a result, he doesn’t refuse any drink given to him. 

And that’s exactly how he ends up pinned against Harry’s childhood bedroom door, Harry’s hands all over him. Louis’ definitely not complaining, in fact, he’s not complaining at all. He’s drunk and he’s very much down for not worrying over the consequences of sleeping with Harry right now. So much so, that he ends up on Harry’s bed with the boy’s cock in his mouth only moments later.

“Oh, _shit._ ” Harry gasps, mouth hanging open as Louis’ tongue works over the sensitive head of his cock expertly, tonguing at the underside and teasing the slit of his head. Harry’s thighs are shaking underneath Louis’ one hand. As drunk as they both are, Louis doesn’t want this to be half assed. He doesn’t need Harry thinking his fake boyfriend is shit in the bedroom. 

“Fuck, Lou--” Harry chokes out, hips thrusting up when Louis teases the head of his cock. It’s sinful, the way Louis’ looking up at him right now. “Can I- I really want to, _nngh_ , fuck you.” Harry breathes, moving a hand down to trace his thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. 

Louis feels a bit dizzy at the idea, pulling off of Harry’s cock and keeping his one hand pumping the base of it. “Do you have lube?” He breathes, feeling both drunk off of Harry and the bit of champagne they shared. He watches as Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together in thought before letting out a groan.

“ _Please_ tell me you do,” Harry frowns, propping himself up on his forearms on the mattress.

“ _Yes_ , Harry, because I totally packed lube to bring to my _fake_ boyfriend’s parents’ house,” Louis deadpans, watching as Harry groans and falls back against the mattress, covering his face with his hands. 

“I wanted to fuck,” Harry huffs out, and Louis rolls his eyes, ducking down to take Harry’s cock back into his mouth a second time. He gets Harry to shut up then, though, as the boy gasps and arches his back up and off the bed at the feeling of Louis’ mouth around his cock. “Shit, no, nevermind. This is _fine_ ,” Harry rambles, hand moving down to grip at Louis’ hair. “Please don’t stop.”

Louis just hums around the man’s cock, dragging his tongue against the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock and letting himself get lost in the sounds of Harry’s moans once again. And as overwhelming as this is, Louis’ a lot happier. Hell, he doesn’t know if he’d last a minute if they fucked properly. 

“You’re way too— _oh—_ good at this,” Harry chokes out, hips stirring up. Louis has to bring his free hand up to hold Harry’s hip down against the bed to keep himself from being choked. Though the idea of being choked by Harry does sound a lot lovelier than he’d like to admit, he’d like it to be on his own terms. 

Louis rests his other hand on the inside of Harry’s thigh, taking in more of the boy’s length into his mouth. They both let out a moan when the tip of Harry’s cock hits the back of his throat. Louis feels like he’s dreaming. He can’t help it. 

While he had been ready to complain only minutes before, when Harry’s hips move in tiny thrusts, fucking in and out of his mouth, Louis doesn’t even mind. He stays put, continuing to work his mouth and tongue over the man’s cock, but allowing Harry to chase after the feeling. 

After a few moments, Louis finds himself pulling back to suck at Harry’s head once he notices Harry’s definitely not going to last much longer. It’s not too long before Harry’s fingers are tightening in Louis’ hair, gasping out in a moan and coming down Louis’ throat hotly. Harry goes boneless against the mattress, and Louis continues to work his mouth lazily over the man’s cock until he hears Harry’s sensitive little whimpers. With one last teasing lick to the boy’s spent cock, Louis pulls off, rising up to press kisses over Harry’s chest. 

“C’mere,” Harry whines, petting over Louis’ hair. Louis can’t help but laugh, leaning up and hovering over the taller boy. He can’t help but smile when Harry gives him a big and lazy grin, tipping his chin up. “That was amazing. _You’re_ amazing,” he murmurs, smoothing his hand over the back of Louis’ head and stopping to rest on the back of Louis’ neck. Louis barely has time to respond before Harry’s dragging him down into a lazy kiss.

“You’re like-- right?” Harry groans against his lips, and Louis wants to make fun of him for his lack of brain power right now, but then Harry’s running a hand over his cock over the thin fabric of his boxers, and Louis can’t do anything more than moan in surprise and push into the feeling of Harry’s hand. Oh, he’s a little pathetic. “Thought so,” he grins against Louis’ lips.

“Shut up,” Louis huffs, and Harry just grins, slipping his hand into Louis’ boxers and not hesitating a moment before his hand wrapped firmly around Louis’ length. Louis can’t stop himself from moaning against the boy’s lips, gently resting his forehead against Harry’s. 

Harry takes his time, just lazily stroking Louis’ cock. He doesn’t know if it’s because Harry’s feeling lazy after his own orgasm or if it’s because Harry just wants to take his time, but considering all the smiles and sharp breaths coming from Harry after every time Louis whimpers or moans, Louis decides that Harry definitely just wants to take his time. And watch Louis suffer, of course. 

Even with how slow Harry’s taking it, it doesn’t take very long for him to feel his orgasm coming on. With how close he is, he doesn’t even notice the way Harry’s free hand has disappeared from the back of his neck, slipping into the back of his boxers. Harry presses the pad of his middle finger against Louis’ tight rim, slipping his finger inside to the first knuckle. And within a second, Louis’ coming all over Harry’s fist with a shout. Harry can’t help but smirk, tipping his head up to kiss over Louis’ jaw, gently rubbing his finger over Louis’ hole as the boy comes down from his orgasm.

“Harry,” Louis breathes, collapsing down besides Harry on the small bed and pressing his forehead to the man’s shoulder. Harry just giggles, kisses his temple, and mumbles a smug “You’re welcome,” as he slips his hand out from Louis’ boxers. He wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, keeping him pressed close and wiping his other hand on the mattress. Louis can’t even be arsed to complain about how filthy the boy is. 

They both fall asleep quickly after that, and fortunately, when they both wake up the next morning, it’s not as awkward as Louis imagined. That is until they make it downstairs for breakfast, and Louis can’t keep a straight face when Gemma smirks at the two of them while Anne obliviously mentions how it was a shame Harry and Louis disappeared before the party ended.

* * *

“You’re actually on time today,” Harry smiles as Louis walks past him, and for a moment, Louis’ forgotten that they do this now. That they actually converse like friends and act like they know each other at work. That they’re actually faking a relationship. It’s already almost February and they’re still doing this.

For the most part, they’ve been able to keep it away from their work life. Although Louis highly doubts that a fake relationship is going to make things complicated at work, he can’t be too safe. 

“Didn’t snooze my alarm,” Louis tells him with a small shrug of his shoulders, curious as Harry follows him down the hall. “You alright, Styles?” He hums, glancing back at the taller lad as he enters his office space. It’s not huge, but it’s his own office, and Louis’ pretty proud of it.

Harry makes a face. “I’m fine,” he insists, and Louis raises an eyebrow. “I’m throwing a party for my birthday, is all. Was gonna invite you.” He explains. Louis furrows his eyebrows at that, a bit confused. He’s always been invited to Harry’s birthday parties. They _were_ friends, after all. He voices this to Harry.

“I mean, _yeah_. But, like. Gemma’s gonna come by, so. Thought it might be weird if you’re not there.” Harry shrugs his shoulders, and Louis understands now. It’s another gig for their little relationship.

“I’ll be there.” Louis promises, offering a smile towards the boy, and he can see Harry relax at the confirmation. 

“Great,” Harry hums. “I’ll text you,” he insists, bumping his hip against Louis’ before he’s exiting the room and heading back down the hallway.

* * *

It’s not too long before Harry’s birthday comes around, and Louis finds himself in the middle of Harry’s living room. It’s not an unusual situation. He’s been in Harry’s apartment a million times before, and all of his friends are Harry’s friends too. 

What _is_ unusual is the fact that they’re playing pretend boyfriend in front of all their friends. 

Lucky for Louis, it's not too long before Harry's dragging him upstairs to his bedroom.

It’s the first time Louis’ been in Harry’s actual room, he realizes, and everything about it just oozes Harry’s aura. There’s a shelf lined with various little film cameras, vinyl records decorating another shelf, the player to the side. There are plants everywhere, just like the majority of the house. The room itself isn’t surprising to Louis, no, but it’s surprising that Louis doesn’t even have the urge to make fun of Harry right now. Harry’s bedroom looks like he’s a film student in college, someone Louis wouldn’t hesitate to take the piss out of. 

But Louis finds himself wanting more. He wants to sit and go through every vinyl Harry owns, listening to Harry explain what his favorite song is on the record, why it’s his favorite, and even listen to it. He wants to see all Harry’s photos, and he wants to go through the boy’s closet. He wants to learn Harry inside and out solely by the items in his room.

By the way Harry’s shutting and locking the door, Louis figures he’s expecting they’ll be having sex, and while the thought is very appealing to Louis, he also just wants to lay down and listen to Harry’s voice for an hour. He’s drunk off his arse and he knows it, especially when he’s considering having Harry drone on about random shit the whole night just to listen to his lovely voice. 

Louis sits himself on the edge of the bed, cheeks flushed from the alcohol as he watches Harry come closer. “You good?” Harry asks with a small smile, looking just as drunk as Louis feels. Louis just smiles, nodding his head in response. He feels great, is the thing.

“You have a lot of vinyl,” Louis notes, watching as Harry’s face seems to light up a bit at the observation. 

“I do,” Harry grins, glancing towards his shelved wall of vinyls. “I’ve had a lot of these for a while,” he admits, placing down his drink and walking over towards the wall. “You want to listen to a few?” He asks.

Louis hums, nodding his head. He wants to listen to everything Harry wants to play and sit here all night. He can’t think of doing anything better. For Louis, the party outside Harry’s bedroom door has been long forgotten. 

Harry smiles at Louis’ response, turning towards his wall of vinyls and carefully handpicking a few before he’s slowly making his way towards the bed. “You can choose which to listen to. Just be careful with them,” he insists as he sits with Louis, laying them down carefully between them. Louis just rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not a madman. Not gonna destroy your things,” Louis insists, and he takes a moment to peer over the few albums Harry’s brought over. He brushes his hand over Fleetwood Mac’s _Rumours_ with a smile. “S’like you want me to ask you to play Stevie all night,” he teases.

“It’s a good album,” Harry laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Think my favorite record of all time is this one.” He explains, reaching forward to tap his finger against The Monkees’ _The Birds, The Bees, & The Monkees _. “I’ve had this one since I was twelve.”

Louis smiles, tilting his head as he picks up the album and flips it over to skim over the song list. The album casing is worn, frayed at the edges. Louis doesn’t doubt that this is Harry’s favorite with how used it looks. “M’always up to listen to Daydream Believer.” He insists, and Harry laughs, taking the vinyl out and getting up to play it on his turntable. Louis can’t help but think it’s adorable as Harry takes his time, needing a bit more concentration than usual thanks to their bit of alcohol. Oops.

He giggles when Harry makes his way back to the bed, Davy Jones’ vocals beginning to fill the room. “They’re always gonna be the best manufactured band,” Harry grins, sitting himself back down across from Louis.

“The Spice Girls say hello, Harry,” Louis teases, and Harry rolls his eyes. 

“They weren’t _actors_ , though. The Monkees started off as a fictional band on a TV show,” he laughs. 

“I won’t take Spice Girls slander,” Louis insists, being careful of the records still between them as he reaches over to push at Harry’s shoulder.

They make it through the two or three albums on the bed before Harry’s putting on The Monkees again due to Louis’ request to listen to “Daydream Believer” once again. He rolls over onto his side as Harry climbs back onto the bed, a smile on his face as he sees Harry’s eyes on him. 

“You’re having a good birthday, yeah?” Louis asks. Even if he’s drunk, he wants to make sure Harry’s having a good night. That he’s not completely boring him, or worse, making Harry feel like he’s trapped in this room with him. There’s a whole party outside, full of their friends and Harry’s friends. 

“M’having the _best_ birthday,” Harry promises, a soft smile on his face as he lays his head down on the pillow, mirroring Louis’ position on the bed. The way Harry looks at him makes Louis think there’s something going on in Harry’s head, something that he can’t quite place. It’s making his head spin, on top of being already drunk, so he just closes his eyes, smiling as he listens to the sound of “Daydream Believer” taking over Harry’s bedroom.

“Good. You deserve it,” Louis murmurs once the song is over, leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to Harry’s lips. 

Harry’s beaming when Louis pulls away. 

* * *

March rolls around, and before Louis knows it, it’s the weekend of Lottie’s wedding, and Louis’ got absolutely no idea how he’s going to pull this off again. His feelings are getting worse, and he knows it, and it doesn’t help when Harry keeps finding excuses to play pretend boyfriend with him. Somehow, Louis must’ve forgotten to mention that this was _only_ supposed to be for their families. But Harry’s got Louis playing boyfriend on the weekends, when Harry’s hanging out with his old school friends and they’re just dying to see Louis and Harry together.

And then there’s the days where they’re hanging out with the lads and Harry makes an effort to cuddle with Louis every time they’re watching a movie. While the lads take the piss out of their fake relationship, all it makes Louis want to do is scream. 

Because _somehow_ , the line between their friendship and fake relationship gets blurred, and Louis wants to puke every time he wakes up in Harry’s bed in the morning to realize that, no, this is just _practice_. It’s just a _convenience_ for them. 

So, it shouldn’t be all too surprising when Louis finds himself laid underneath Harry in their hotel room after sharing a few too many margaritas during the reception.

“Hey,” Louis warns, tilting his head back as Harry’s lips drag over the skin of his neck, trying to lean away for the moment. “We shouldn’t keep -- what are we doing?” He breathes, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, ready to (reluctantly) push him away. Fortunately, Harry pulls back to look down at him. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, lips pulled into a frown like he’s disappointed they stopped. Louis can’t handle this.

“ _This_ ,” Louis emphasizes. “I don’t think we should--”

“It’s just sex. Something convenient for the both of us,” Harry says, and there’s an edge to his voice that Louis can’t just place. 

So, he ignores it. 

“Right,” Louis breathes. Sex he can do. He’s not going to start overthinking things now. Not when Harry’s hovering over him while he’s laid on the hotel mattress, Harry’s face only inches away from him. He can see how blown Harry’s pupils are, the light coloured stubble dusted over Harry’s skin, the way his hair falls into his face as he looks down at him. He has a bloody gorgeous man on top of him at the moment and he’s not going to refuse himself this moment.

So as much as Louis wants to pull away, stop this before it gets too far, before Louis loses all his senses, he doesn’t. It’s just sex. Louis’ fooled around with friends before, he can manage this. When he looks back up at Harry, he finds Harry already staring down at him, studying him as if he’s making sure Louis’ not about to pull away. It’s quiet for a few moments before Louis’ moving his hands down to continue unbuttoning Harry’s obnoxious dress shirt, slipping it over his shoulders and letting it fall onto the bed. Harry smiles, quick to push it off the bed and onto the floor. 

Within moments, Harry’s returning the action, unbuttoning Louis’ dress shirt and pushing it open as he presses open mouthed kisses against the man’s chest. Louis just hopes he can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. 

“You know how gorgeous you are?” Harry breathes hotly against his skin, and Louis just has to close his eyes. It’s not the first time he’s heard Harry like this, but it still feels as shocking as the first time. 

“M’already in your bed. Don’t need to flirt your way into my pants,” Louis muses, moving a hand over Harry’s back. He can feel Harry smirk a bit against his skin. 

“Don’t think I mean it?” He questions, pulling back and tipping his head up to look at Louis, dimples on show. It makes Louis’ heart skip a beat. Harry’s gaze is intense, green eyes burning into his own, and again, for a moment, he feels as if there’s something more Harry’s not saying. He doesn’t want to think about that.

Instead, Louis ignores the question, sliding his hand up to cup the back of Harry’s neck, guiding him down into a kiss. He knows Harry’s teasing him, knows that this is nothing more but a favor between friends. Harry’s done more than enough for him, and he’s definitely cockblocking Harry from actually going out with people, so. Harry deserves this from him. And it’s definitely not a chore for Louis to do. As much as he hates to admit it (and completely expected it), Harry’s the best he’s ever had. Harry will never hear him say that, though. 

“Just fuck me already,” Louis nips lightly at Harry’s lower lip, eliciting a little groan in response from Harry. He could listen to that all day, definitely. 

“Pushy,” Harry grunts playfully, and he doesn’t hesitate to waste a moment before he’s reaching down to undo Louis’ dress pants, tossing them off to the side. Louis’ sure he’ll find his clothes to be a wrinkled mess the next morning. He can’t even find it in himself to care. 

Harry manages to slip his own trousers off, leaving both boys in their boxers as Harry leans over the side of the bed, rummaging through his bag to find a bottle of lube and a condom. He looks pleased when he returns, and Louis can’t help but roll his eyes.

Harry slowly tugs his boxers off, letting them pool at Louis’ ankles and leaving it for the blue eyed boy to kick off the bed. He teases Louis for a little while, leaning forward to kiss at the boy’s hips and thighs, completely ignoring his cock in the process. 

“Harry,” Louis whines with a little huff, wiggling his hips and trying to shift closer to Harry. Harry smirks up at him, a playfully innocent expression on his face. 

“Patience,” Harry reminds him with a hum, smirking and kissing over Louis’ hipbone. He lets his lips brush over the boy’s skin teasingly before he’s pulling back and reaching for the lube. Louis audibly sighs in relief. 

When Harry presses in the first finger, Louis has to bite down on his cheek to keep himself from releasing an embarrassing noise. He can’t help it. Harry’s free hand comes down to hold his hip down against the bed, and for a moment, it feels like Harry’s almost afraid that Louis’ going to squirm out of his grasp. As if that’s even a thought in Louis’ mind right now. He wants Harry closer and closer, and if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t want this to end. 

It’s a heavy thought to have, especially in the middle of sex. They’ve taken this too far, is the thing, and at this point, Louis doesn’t even know if he could stop it. Everything’s so fake, and to Louis, he just _wants_ it to be as real as it feels. He’s learned more about Harry in these past few months than he has in all of the years that he’s known him. He knows how Harry treats his dates. He knows which songs Harry thinks are overrated and which songs he could play on repeat forever. He knows how Harry sounds like when he comes, and he knows that the boy likes to cuddle right after, that he likes feeling the warmth of someone that close to him. 

Louis’ caught up in his thoughts, so much so that Harry’s got a little crease in his eyebrows as he finally slips in a third finger, trying to reach Louis’ prostate in order to get his attention back. It doesn’t take very long, and before he realizes it, he’s riding Harry’s fingers and pushing back on them. “Please,” he moans, head rolling to the side as his hips struggle to stay still.

Harry seems to take pity on him, however, because he slips his fingers out of him. It’s a little depressing for Louis, feeling so empty all of a sudden, but the anticipation of getting Harry’s cock inside of him is too strong to ignore. He’s impatient, though, when Harry fumbles around with the condom, squirming against the mattress and gently knocking his knee against Harry’s side. “Do it without, please,” he huffs, chest heaving slightly while his cock lays heavy on his hip. “Just want you inside already.”

Harry looks a little caught off guard, almost as if he was torn between fighting Louis on using a condom and just instantly pushing into him. Louis wouldn’t mind the latter.

“You’re sure?” Harry breathes, cradling his dick near Louis’ entrance. Louis has to stop himself from just pushing Harry inside himself.

“M’clean, promise.” Louis insists, eyes on the taller boy’s face. Harry seems to hesitate for a moment before he’s nodding, promising that he’s clean, too, before he’s covering his dick in lube and positioning himself at Louis’ rim. 

Harry hesitates a moment before Louis feels him pushing in, and Louis groans at the sudden stretch. It’s been a while and Louis hasn’t realized just how long it’s been until now. It takes him a moment to get comfortable, mouth opening and closing as Harry continues to push inside of him. When he’s properly bottomed out, Louis has to remind himself how to breathe. It’s a lot, and Harry’s _huge_ . He definitely managed to underestimate just how big the boy was. He’s being pulled apart by the seam, and he’s not too sure how he’s going to manage once Harry starts moving. But he wants this, and he _knows_ Harry wants it too. He can feel Harry straining not to move, pressing soft little kisses to Louis’ neck and chest while he waits for Louis to relax and tell him to move. 

Fuck. He’s in love.

Louis tips his head back jerkily at the thought, reaching up to rest his hands on Harry’s arms. “Move. Move, please.” He breathes out. It barely takes Harry a minute before he’s shifting, moving a hand down to hold Louis’ hip. He pulls out just enough, keeping the head of his dick inside the smaller boy, before he’s setting a decent pace so Louis can get comfortable. Even with every small and steady thrust from Harry, Louis can’t help the little sounds that are falling from his lips. 

His hands find their way into Harry’s hair, attempting to pull Harry down for a kiss. When he gets his way, the kiss immediately turns filthy, and Louis can feel Harry’s hips quicken their pace. It’s driving Louis crazy, and he finds himself drawing his legs up until they’re hitting his chest, caged in by Harry’s body as Harry holds himself up by his forearms, bracing Louis’ face on both sides. 

“Lou,” Harry moans, lips brushing against Louis’ and his voice strained. “Not gonna last- _fuck_ \- much longer.”

Louis’ breath catches in his throat on a particular upthrust, fingers tightening in Harry’s hair. He knows the boy is close, can feel it in the way that Harry’s rhythm is getting sloppy. But considering that he’s just as close, it really doesn’t matter. “C’mon. Harder. Not gonna fucking break,” Louis moans breathily. 

Harry lets out a little grunt at that, but fortunately, he listens, and Louis can feel his body move back with the bed after every movement of Harry’s hips. It doesn’t take very long for Louis to come once Harry snakes a hand down to grip Louis’ cock, pulling it off quickly in time with his thrusts. Louis gasps out, hands tightening in Harry’s hair, back arching off of the mattress, and spilling over Harry’s hand and both of their chests. Harry groans, burying his face into Louis’ neck, and thrusting once, twice, and three times before he’s spilling out inside of the smaller boy, his cock pulsing. 

Louis wraps an arm around Harry’s back, his hand cupping the back of the taller lad’s neck as they both try to come down from their orgasms, breathing heavily into each other’s ears. They’re both sticky messes, and for a moment, Louis definitely regrets not making use of a condom. He’s lazy, spent, and in absolutely no mood to take a shower right now. 

He lets out a choked out whimper when Harry finally pulls out, feeling completely stretched open and sensitive. Harry nudges his nose against Louis’ cheek, giving the boy a little sympathetic look before he’s pulling away completely and standing from the bed. Louis can’t keep his eyes from falling shut.

When he opens his eyes, Harry’s back on the bed with a towel, cleaning Louis up gently. Louis has absolutely no idea what it is about that that makes him want to cry, but he manages to hold himself together, happily accepting a kiss from Harry when he leans down moments later. They kiss lazily for a couple minutes, Harry letting the towel drop to the floor as he hovers over the boy again. 

“Wasn’t too shabby of a wedding night,” Harry muses as he finally pulls away, a cheeky smile playing at his lips. Louis just rolls his eyes, pushing at Harry’s shoulder. 

“Saying that like you’re the one who got married.” Louis snorts. Harry just grins. “Get over here. M’tired,” he grumbled, curling his hand around Harry’s bicep. Although he rolls his eyes, within the next moment, Harry’s settling down besides Louis and hooking an arm around his waist, tugging him in close. Louis hums, a small smile on his face as he’s being tugged against Harry’s body. They’re both happy and pliant until Louis reaches for the hotel comforter, pulling it over the both of them which causes Harry to groan.

“I’m fuckin’ freezing, shut up,” Louis huffs, burying himself under the covers.

“It’s a thousand degrees in here. You’re crazy,” Harry grumbles, but Louis doesn’t budge. Harry just slumps against him in defeat, pressing his face against Louis’ neck. He doesn’t say anything else, though, and for a moment, Louis’ not sure if it’s the sex haze or the alcohol, but he swears he can feel Harry smiling against his neck. 

It keeps him up for a little bit. 

In fact, it keeps him up for a few nights. So much so that he’s avoiding Harry once they’re both home, only speaking to him as necessary. He’ll speak to him at work, keeping it professional. He doesn’t bother to answer the few text messages that Harry’s spammed him with. He keeps himself off social media, too, only liking photos on Facebook and Instagram from Lottie’s wedding. 

* * *

“Any reason why your boyfriend’s asking me if I’ve heard from you recently?” Zayn raises an eyebrow over at Louis. Louis frowns in response. He already doesn’t like where this is going.

Part of him just wants this all to end. The other part of him knows that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Louis shrugs his shoulders, watching Stevie strut across the living room. “I don’t know. He’s not my actual boyfriend. Not my boyfriend at all, really.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“You’re ignoring your fake boyfriend. On what account?” He hates Zayn. He’ll keep saying it.

“We’re gonna have to end this eventually. All the major holidays are over. Lottie’s married. There’s no reason for have Harry parade around as my boyfriend,” Louis tells him, but he knows he doesn’t stand a chance against Zayn. Zayn knows why he’s ignoring Harry. He knows Zayn knew as soon as he got the odd text from Harry.

“You haven’t told him that.” 

“He knows it was supposed to be a temporary thing. It was only supposed to be fucking Christmas. Nothing more,” Louis groans, leaning back against the couch.

“I thought you guys were having fun with it. What’s with the sudden change of mind?” Zayn prompts. Louis closes his eyes. Zayn knows what it is, knows it without Louis even having to say it. “You could just tell him.” He adds, voice softer, the way it usually gets for Louis.

“I don’t want to talk to him. I can deal with this myself. Besides, he needs a break from all this crap, too.” He insists.

“He’s been texting you constantly, hasn’t he? Wondering why you’re not responding?” Zayn raises an eyebrow. “Probably texting your other friends too. He’s going to realize you’re ignoring him.”

“Good. Maybe that’s what I want him to believe.” He can tell that Zayn doesn’t believe him, but at this point, it’s way too obvious that it’s the exact opposite of what Louis wants. But it’s a lot easier for him just to ignore this all. 

“Louis, that’s ridiculous.”

“My _feelings_ aren’t ridiculous, Zayn. Fuck you.”

“Talk to him! I don’t have the energy to parent trap you guys!” Zayn says, and Louis sputters.

Louis makes a dying whale-like noise. “I don’t _want_ to talk to him. This whole bloody thing was supposed to be fake. I wasn’t supposed to, like. Catch actual feelings for him,” Louis groans, covering his face, shielding his face from the unimpressed look on Zayn’s face.

“You say that as if you didn’t have feelings for him before, mate.” 

“I didn’t!” Louis glares, peeking out from his fingers. He should’ve gone to Niall.

“You _did_. It’s why his name came out of your fucking mouth in the first place.” Zayn says. “You’ve had a thing for him since I met you. You’re the ones who’ve known each other longer than anybody else, yet you act like bloody children around each other. You’ve always manage to completely avoid each other. For what fucking reason, I don’t understand.” 

Louis stares at him, speechless as Stevie crawls into his lap. At least someone’s on his side.

Zayn continues. “Harry’s treating this a lot more real than you are. It’s fucking ridiculous. The holidays are over, Lottie’s wedding is over, and he’s still pulling every excuse out of his ass to take you out and play pretend boyfriend. And you’re convinced you’re the only one with feelings?” He’s blunt, and he’s right, and Louis just wants to die a little bit.

“He’s doing what I asked him to,” Louis counters.

“You didn’t even fucking ask him. He _offered_.”

“It was a bloody pity offer!”

“Fucking hell, Louis. How daft are you?” Zayn shakes his head. “If it was a pity offer, he would’ve stopped pretending after the first holiday. He wouldn’t be texting all your friends to check in on you if it was a bloody pity offer.” 

Louis knows he’s right, is the thing. He knows that if Harry had just agreed because he felt bad for him, it would’ve ended sooner than it started. He definitely wouldn’t be acting like this.

“I just think it’d be a lot easier if Harry and I ended this now.” Louis says after a moment. Zayn just stares at him, shaking his head. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Zayn sighs, slumping against the couch in defeat.

Louis stares at his phone for the rest of the night, ignoring Zayn’s advice. What does Zayn know, anyway? 

* * *

That next week, Louis manages to avoid Harry completely. He skips out on Niall’s game night on Thursday, feigning a bad stomach ache, and manages to not run into Harry at work once. Harry hasn’t stopped trying to text him, and on top of bringing Zayn into it, he gets a suspicious text from Liam asking if he’s alright. He doesn’t answer that either.

He doesn’t know how to handle this. He feels like the worst person in the world, ignoring Harry like this, but he doesn’t want to keep doing this. Not when he’s only going to fall harder and harder for Harry. He doesn’t want to consider the idea that Harry could return his feelings either. They’re making a mess out of this, blurring lines left and right, when all it was supposed to be in the first place was a quick trip up to his parents’ house for the holidays. 

He wasn’t supposed to sleep with Harry, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to _keep_ sleeping with Harry. 

Of course, Louis should’ve considered the fact that he wouldn’t be able to avoid Harry forever. By the time next Monday rolls around the corner, the universe has had enough of Louis being a baby. Because, of course, the first person he sees when he exits the elevator is Harry.

Fuck the world.

“Hey,” Harry chirps with a hopeful smile as Louis brushes past him. Louis doesn’t even need to look at him to know that Harry’s lips are turning down into a frown as soon as he realizes Louis’ not talking to him. 

“I have a deadline in an hour, Harry. I don’t really have the time to talk,” Louis says as he makes his way to his office, and he internally groans when he realizes that Harry’s following him inside. 

“You haven’t been answering my texts,” Harry says like it isn’t obvious. His eyebrows are knitted together in concern when Louis turns back to look at him. 

Louis sighs, trying to brush Harry off. “I’ve been busy. Deadlines. The lot of it.” He can tell that Harry wants to push. “Haven’t been responding to anyone’s texts.”

Harry gives him a puzzled look, obviously uncomfortable with the shortness of Louis’ answer. “Are you --” he pauses, eyebrows scrunched once again. “Did I do something wrong?” He asks, frowning. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m serious about this deadline, Harry.” Louis lies. Truthfully, there’s no deadline. Hell, Louis’ already submitted his code. He doesn’t need Harry to know that, though. 

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Harry says, stepping further into the room. “I’m not -- I’m not stupid, Louis. I know something’s up.”

“Nothing’s up,” Louis insists. “Look. I appreciate it all, okay? But there’s no reason for us to keep doing _this._ ” He says, motioning his hand around vaguely. 

“I said I didn’t mind,” Harry protests weakly. 

“It was supposed to be over after Christmas, Harry. That was my fault,” he continues. “I think we should end this before it gets even more complicated. Can’t do this forever, you know.” 

“What?” Harry blinks, staring at Louis. “No.” Louis frowns.

“No?”

“ _No._ Fuck you.” Harry says, deep frown on his face as he stands in front of Louis’ desk. Louis can hear it slowly becoming a bit more quiet in the hallway, and god, everybody’s so nosy. He’s going to die. 

“I’m not doing this right now.” Louis says, turning and trying to distract himself with his papers enough that Harry gives into defeat. Today, however, won’t be the day Harry does. 

“I’m not letting you end this.” 

“It was fucking fake to begin with Harry. It’s fake. It doesn’t _matter_. You want to keep bloody lying to everyone?” Louis snaps, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Harry like this. 

“You can’t call that fake.” Harry shakes his head, and Louis feels his stomach sink. He can’t do this. 

“Harry,” he starts, and Harry shakes his head again, cutting him off. 

“You can’t seriously call that fake. I don’t believe you. You can’t fucking tell me you didn’t feel anything.” Harry says, and Louis runs a hand over his face.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re not doing this anymore, H.”

“Tell me you didn’t feel anything.” Harry glares at him.

“I didn’t-- I didn’t feel anything, Harry. It was fake.” Louis repeats, swallowing thickly. 

“Fucking liar,” Harry shakes his head. “I _know_ it wasn’t all me.” 

Louis feels like he’s going to convulse. “Harry, does it _matter_? This is for the best.”

“It’s not for the fucking best,” Harry says, and Louis just knows that there’s a crowd outside his office right now, just listening in on their conversation. “I want this to be real, Louis. I’ve _always_ wanted it to be real. You’re so fucking clueless all the time.”

“I really don’t want to hear this,” Louis says, shaking his head. 

“Louis. I don’t want this to end,” he repeats, stepping closer. “At least give this a try, can you?” He asks, voice a little softer towards the end. 

Louis closes his eyes, sucking in a breath. Part of him wants to say no, wants to refuse Harry of this. He doesn’t want to be the reason why this falls apart in the end, and he’s much more comfortable ending it before it even begins. But he can’t deny that he wants this. Hell, he’s wanted it for ages. And Harry’s definitely not fooled. “We can try.” Louis murmurs, sparing a glance to Harry, and his stomach flips when he sees the smile spreading across Harry’s lips.

“I’ll make you happy,” Harry promises, and he reaches for Louis’ hand, pulling him towards him. “I’ll be worth it, promise. Haven’t let you down yet,” Harry reminds, and Louis can’t help but laugh, knowing that, _yeah,_ his mum really does like Harry. 

“Shut up,” Louis mumbles, and he pulls Harry down for a kiss. Harry giggles into it, cupping Louis’ cheek with his free hand. They both pointedly ignore the hushed and happy whispers outside Louis' office.

* * *

The next Christmas, Louis tries to break it to his mother that they hadn’t actually been dating the year prior. Jay refuses to believe it, promising him that the two boys in Daisy’s polaroid from last year weren’t anything but completely in love with each other.

Louis doesn’t think he can refute that.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! this is the longest fic i've ever written and it was definitely scary
> 
> visit me at @ZOULSBUSONE on twitter and @thepolourryexpress on tumblr :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] (you're gonna see me in a) new light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29424738) by [softlouislove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlouislove/pseuds/softlouislove)




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